The Crown (Prince Harry fanfic #5)

Chapter Forty-Two

March 2025

Harry watched Lucy a lot as of recently. Lucy noticed. She had a talk with him. He stopped for a few days. Harry continued. Lucy noticed. She had a talk with him. He stopped for a few days. Harry continued. Lucy noticed. She let it go. Understanding why he did it, she just ignored it. Her eyes were kept on Harry as well. There wasn't a sinking feeling at the pit of her stomach, so that was a good sign, but she was still ready for a fight.

The new year passed, and the young family was welcomed into 2025. It seemed like forever ago that this started, when it really was. In June of 2025, it would've been ten years since Harry and Lucy met. They were so cute back then, with hope in their eyes and eight hours of sleep every night. The hope somewhat remained but those eight hours had been cut down quite a lot.

With the new year, passed January and February. Those months passed so quickly that they weren't really remembered. Events were done. Lucy wore pretty dresses. Harry occasionally wore an uniform from his old British Armed Forces days. Sometimes they had events together. Sometimes they didn't. Lucy had events with Charles a lot, taking in some similar charities. Lucy wore more pretty dresses. Harry wore some suits. Freddie went to daycare and Henry went with him; both were introduced to normal kids to play with. Lucy wore some ballgowns that graced the floor with style and grace. Harry wore some tuxedos that were black. Those months were peaceful, calm and complete. Looking back on those months, it was a wonder where they went. As an adult, days passed by so quickly. It was all a blur.

Lucy was back in this situation again, and she hated it. She gave the same pain as last time. Stubborn should've been her middle name. Yet, this time she did it with less moaning and groaning. She tried to keep herself in grace, even in the constant pain of screams and cries. She tried to keep her head held high at the non-stop craziness that surrounded her. It was, after all, Henry's first birthday party.

One year since Henry Charles James Richard Smith was born on March 17th, 2024.

Like before, no one-year-old needed a first birthday party. The child wasn't going to notice. Other one-year-olds weren't going to notice. Lucy didn't know most of the people in her Kensington Palace apartment, with their babies. Like before, Lucy grinned and beared it. Harry listened to the complaining before the party and he was going to listen to it after the party.

Henry wasn't going to remember his birthday party, because after walking for a little while he gave up and laid on the ground. He fell asleep. Lucy wanted to be like her little son: no shits were given. Lucy walked over and picked her son up off the floor. He slept easily in her arms.

Thankfully, pictures had been taken while he was yet awake and yet enjoying himself with a few other babies. If those pictures didn't suffice, pictures of Freddie would. Freddie enjoyed birthday parties, even if they weren't his own, and he loved cake. Freddie ran around like a hooligan. Lucy was happy Freddie just didn't take off his pants; he was going through a phase.

Awaking, Henry's eyes were open enough to see the last people leave. The Kensington Palace apartment was quiet again. His eyes roamed to his mother, who held him. Like a switch, if Henry wasn't sleeping, Freddie was. He passed out on the floor with his butt in the air. The sugar had left his body quickly enough, when he probably would've been awake later that evening.

The maids came in and started to clean. There wasn't much of a mess, though. Henry got enough toys and clothes to last a lifetime in one day. He probably wouldn't wear most of the clothes because Henry was a messy eater. He wore stained and cheap clothing every day, unless he was going out or pictures were being taken.

Henry was put to bed first. After Freddie's power nap, he ran around the apartment like a monkey on cocaine. Harry chased after his son. Freddie ran out of energy again, though it took time. Lucy got him to fall asleep after some reading of Harry Potter. Harry was already in bed and Lucy slid in beside him. Turning off the light, it went dark in the bedroom.

Lucy sat up straight on the bed, breath barely there, sucked out of the room through the windows. Her hand pressed to her head. Her eyes met the ceiling still, pinpointed on the creation, like she saw through the ceiling and into the galaxy.

Eyes fluttering open, Harry caught to the sight of Lucy beside him. It reminded him of Africa, when he first met her, the first night with her. Unlike the first night, he immediately moved. Harry placed a hand on her leg. He felt how tense her muscles were, how strict she kept her legs.

Lucy spun around and pressed her feet to the ground of their bedroom. Sitting up, Harry pressed his hand into her back. He needed to touch her; he needed her to know that he was here for her. He swung close to her so that his feet pressed against the ground too. His hand continued to rub her back. "Luce," he said slowly.

Jumping up, she started to pace in front of him. It was her nervous habit, always had been. She was perfectly still until everything pushed her over the edge. To move, she paced, back and forth, almost creating a draft. She needed a way too cool down, and the movement gave her something to do with her body. Pacing helped Lucy.

Harry stayed perfectly still on the bed as he watched his wife. She just needed a moment. After a minute, Lucy stopped. She looked at her husband, and he smiled at her. "Hello," she said kindly.

Patting the bed beside him, Lucy sat down beside Harry. His fingers wrapped around her hands. "It's okay," he said. "It's okay."

"I'm not crying," she snapped.

"You just woke up, like before, back in Africa."

"I was a different person can then."

"You were-- we both are different people." His thumb ran over her skin. "You're waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"So are you if you know exactly what I'm thinking."

"I know you, Luce, pretty well. And I know that you need to breathe. Whatever happens, happens. We'll deal with it together."

"Can't wait."